Within the Walls of Bag End
by loveofthering
Summary: There is something that Sam had never known about Mr. Frodo..a secret that he finds hidden within the walls of Bag End.R&R complete! R
1. Chapter 1

Within the Walls of Bag End

Chapter 1

It was late in the evening when Sam bid his youngest son, "a good evening," and thanked him for helping out repairing some of the old shutters. Robin Gardner was a fair lad and had the same qualities of his sisters and some of his older brothers, the same blonde color of hair. For most of his twelve siblings had all married and had children of their own, but Robin. He was well past his fiftieth birthday and still never caught the eye of any lass. He kept himself busy shirriffing the town of Hobbiton, a position his father gave him long ago during his last year as mayor.

Sam worried about him, since Robin was spending so much time at Bag End, helping him with a list of repairs. Sam felt he was taking too much time away from his job and was not delivering good satisfaction to those who kept him employed.

Rosie had passed on in the early spring and since then, Sam was tripping over his sons and daughters who constantly stopped by to check-up on him. Living alone at Bag End would have been a lonely affair, if Sam was left on his own, but this seldom happened for the elderly hobbit with his adult children living so close by him. All but Elanor. who still remained in the West March with her husband Fastred and their two children. When Rosie died, Elanor came to stay with Sam for nearly a month and was greatly sadden when she had to leave and return home again.

Sam made a promise that he would visit her when he felt his time was close before he would leave for the Grey Haven and his final journey to join Mr. Frodo and Mr. Bilbo, the last of the ring bearers.

While he waited for his time to near, Sam wanted to repair Bag End and get it ready for the next generation of Gardner. His son Frodo would be the next heir of this magnificent home and would fill the rooms full with his fifteen children when Sam would leave for the Grey Haven.

Robin and the rest of Sam's sons all offered to help their father with all the repairs and anything else that he may have needed. This kept Sam's mind busy and filled the loneliness from missing his dearly departed wife, Rosie. That, and the finial chapter of the Red Book that Mr. Frodo had left for him to finish.

When Sam closed the front door after bidding his youngest son farewell, Sam went back into his study and saw the Red book opened and waiting for him with his quill in the inkwell next to it. However, something else caught Sam's eye. It was a small, old wood-handled chisel that had once belonged to Mr. Bilbo's father who had built Bag End. Mr. Bilbo kept a small room deep within Bag End where all of his father's tools still remained untouched until this very day. Robin could not find a small enough chisel of his own to make the carvings in the wooden shutters that would match the original design that he repaired and had to borrow it from the old room.

After he had finished his work, Sam insisted that Robin leave for his home at once so he could get enough rest for his shirriffing job the next morning. Taking the small old chisel, Sam thought to return it to the room from where it came from. Walking through the long corridors of Bag End gave Sam enough time to think about times gone by with each room that he had past. Rooms his children once occupied while they grew up in his large home. He pasted Elanor's old room and then Frodo's next to it. Down the corridor, there were more rooms where Ham played his fiddle with his other son, Pippin. Merry's room was next to Pippins' and then came Bilbo's room after that. Turning the corner and walked down another long corridor was his daughter's rooms where Rose spent her time sewing and doing her lovely needle point work. The next room was that of Goldilocks, his fair haired daughter with the large ringlets tied up in ribbons. Sam stopped by her door and smiled thinking about all the trouble he caused in making her wait until her coming of age before he allowed her to marry Peregrin Took's son, Faramir. Who would have thought that she would have ended up with five lovely lasses all with bright red curly hair. Poor Peregrin Took, he waited and waited for a grandson that never happened.

The next room was Primrose and Daisy's room who could barely be separated from her sister and insisted on sharing a room together and after that was Ruby's room. Sam continued on down the corridor until he reached what use to be Tolman's room and then Robins.

Sam paused a moment and looked back from where he came, to all those empty rooms and he smiled knowing they would be filled again with his fifteen grandchildren from his son Frodo. He knew Bag End would share happier days just ahead.

He made one last turn and he continued down the empty corridor to the small little door that seldom had any visitors and was preserved for all time to come. Sam opened the door and went inside.

Bongo Baggin's tool room was covered with thick cobwebs and dust and everything that was in that room upon his passing was left just as it had always been, except for this one small chisel. Sam could clearly see the open drawer and his son's finger prints smuggled in the thick coating of dust upon the work bench.

Sam looking inside the drawer and saw many small chisels and added the last one before he tried to close it. When he pushed the drawer to close, something seemed to be stopping it. Sam wiggled the drawer just a little, incase it was just jammed. But the drawer did not move any further. Pulling it out, he set it gently upon the workbench, Sam peered inside the cubby hole. To his surprise there was something there in the far back and Sam reached his hand inside and pulled it out to see what it was.

There was a small leather bound book with its pages filled full of writings from his old master. Sam instantly recognized this book and it brought back memories of when he was a child studying when Frodo first came to live at Bag End with Mr. Bilbo.

Mr. Bilbo insisted that Sam come by each morning to study with Frodo in learning his letters and his numbers. When Frodo had finish his studies, Sam often found him sitting under a tree writing in this small little book. It fascinated Sam as a child because this book was not like any other book that he had ever seen. It was small enough to fit into a pocket and not on a shelf. He would ask Mr. Frodo to read him a page of his writings, but Frodo would put it in his pocket and take out another book to read to him. Frodo never talked about his little book to Sam and Sam understood Frodo and never asked him again about this book. If, Mr. Frodo wanted to write secrets than Sam would not bother him about it.

Looking at this little book, Sam wondered how it got caught in the tool drawer. Perhaps Frodo put it there many long years ago and had just forgotten all about it. He put it into his pocket and would save it for him when they were reunited again in the Grey Havens.

Putting the drawer back into the cubby hole and closing it, Sam left the tool room and shut the door. He was very tired from the long day with his son repairing the old stutters. So Sam walked through the long corridor and headed to his room that he had always shared with his dearest Rosie.

Sam placed the little book on his desk and took off his weskit. Sitting down in his chair in front of his desk, he looked at the little book again. He took his handkerchief and began to wipe it clean from all the dust in that old tool room. The brown leather still had a little shine to it, but Sam wanted it a little better for when he would return it to Frodo.

He went and got some beeswax and a polishing towel. Carefully, Sam began to work the beeswax into the old leather and with each small circle motion from his fingers. He could see the dirt and grime beginning to lift. When he wiped it clean, the leather looked as good as the day it was made. This pleased Sam as he admired the fine leather cover.

Wanting to make this special for his old Master, Sam found some tissue paper that Rosie always kept for wrapping gifts in his desk drawer and he carefully folded the small book into it and sat it upon the table. He thought of Frodo's surprised face when he would give it to him when he saw him.

When Sam prepared himself for bed, he crawled into the warm sheets and cozy quilt. Resting upon his pillow, he looked upon the familiar ceiling. His mind thought back to happier times with Rosie by his side and his heart began to ache with missing her all over again. His bed felt empty without her laying here beside him. His tears began to build in his aged old eyes and threatened to spill over and run down his cheeks. He blinked his eyes and dried them with his sleeve of his nightshirt and did his best to think of something else, but it was too late to shift his thoughts. The loneliness in his heart had filled him and there was no getting away from it.

Sam turned and tossed, and turned once again, but he could not find a comfortable spot. His mind could find no rest that he sought. Hour after hour, he laid there doing his best to convince himself to go to sleep, but sleep would not come to Sam. Finally somewhere between the middle of the night and the dawning of a new day, Sam got up from his bed and went in search for something to read that would put him to sleep. He went through a stack of his favorite books, but he knew each line by heart and just how each story would end. They seemed dull and uninteresting. He saw Rosie's journals, but knew that by reading them it would only increase the loneliness and missing her that already kept him from sleeping.

Sam stood in the middle of his bedroom perplexed in what he should do next. His eyes roamed each shelf and table until they rested upon the tissue wrapping and Frodo's small little book. In his mind, Sam thought that Mr. Frodo would not mind very much if he read a page or two, just to help him fall asleep.

Carefully unwrapping the small little book, Sam felt a little guilty in knowing these were secrets that Frodo did not want to share with anyone. It was his private thoughts and Sam felt like he was betraying a trust and tried to put it down once again. For the longest time, Sam just stood their staring at the small book and argued with himself incisively. The more he stood there, the more curious he became until finally Sam just picked it up and brought it over to his bed.

Climbing in his bed and covering himself up warmly, Sam fluffed up his pillow and moved the candle a little closer on his night stand and opened Frodo's book. He had promised himself that he would only read a few lines, just to get his mind thinking about something else and perhaps then, sleepy enough to close his eyes. He had hoped it was a small book of poems that Frodo loved so much or a story about the elves.

"I love her," read Sam from the beginning paragraph and he continued, "I love her with all my heart. Minderell Maggot, even her name sends my heart to racing,"

Sam put the book down upon his lap and his expressionless face could not believe the words that he had just read. "Frodo was in love?" he whispered to himself being so confused.

Never in all the time that he had known Frodo did he ever mentioned a lass that he had once loved or ever being in love for that matter. This confused Sam greatly and if it was wrong to read his private journal, Sam could no longer help himself. He had to find out more.

Frodo's words that he penned in this book was so eloquently written and flowed with such magic that the imagines began to play in Sam's mind as he read and he could envision Frodo back then on that day in his book.

In The Marish

It was the kind of spring day that sends your feet down any given path and a song bursting deep within your heart. A day like Frodo's Uncle Bilbo proclaimed, to lose oneself on a path of adventure.

Frodo's heart was stirring from all the beauty all around him. The sky was a crystal blue with the sun shining brightly above him. The trees had their first new growth of leaves in deep solid green color and the open field on the other side of Brandyhall, was thick with tall grasses and blooming wild flowers. On the other side of the Brandywine River, stood the Marish and held a promise of an adventure in the thick cover of its wet forestland with Buckleberry Ferry just waiting to take him across.

It was all Frodo could do to contain himself while he ran down the path heading towards the ferry.

Frodo looked back to the shore and then to his home that he had always known, Brandyhall. This was his last summer that he would remain in residence and by autumn, he would be leaving Buckland for Hobbiton and living with his Uncle Bilbo at Bag End. He had anticipated this for many long years after his parent's death when his Uncle Bilbo first asked him to come live with him and soon, he would be leaving Buckland forever. The thought made him sad for a moment, but living with his uncle turned that sadness around while he imagined in his mind how wonderful it was going to be.

The rushing water that lapped at the edge of the ferry, pulled Frodo's thoughts back to his adventure and he pulled on the rope to get him to the other side. Before the ferry touched the shoreline, Frodo's anticipation could not be contained any longer. He leaped from the platform and landed upon the wet soggy grass. He heard the thud of the ferry as it met land and just like a fine race horse at the starting gate, he was off and running, jumping the thick brush and dodging stump and tree that stood in his chosen path.

Deeper and deeper his feet carried him into the dark misty Marish and wet forest land. The echoing of the birds that chirped and the frogs that croaked, gave an explosion of noise in and all around him. Frodo only paused for a moment and turned in circles standing in the center of a small clearing just listening to the sounds within the Marish.

Frodo knew better than to take the path leading right, after his run-in with Farmer Maggot's dogs and the old farmer himself, frightened him enough never to try that again. He only hoped that the farmer was not on the same path that he was taking. No watermelon or mushroom was worth getting caught by those vicious dogs.

A new sound drifted across the small clearing in which Frodo stood, a very faint whispers in musical tones that seemed to charm his very soul. Every so soft, kind and gentle the tones caressed his hearing. He strained his ears to listen and wondered where it was coming from. It seemed to bounce off every tree.

Frodo turned to the left and walked a few yards, but the sweet tones lessened to where he could barely hear them anymore. He went back to where he first heard it and then took the path leading right. Then the sounds became clearer, but still very faint. He knew by this, he was getting closer.

The fear of the dogs and the farmer seemed to be forgotten as he was so entranced by the lovely sound in which he was seeking out. The further he traveling in the direction of the sweets tones gave way to audible sweet sounding words and he listened while he walked closer to them.

"Oh shadows of winter your gray clouds hide the light,

To darken the heart of a misty, long cold night,

It creeps every so slowly to cloud the eyes,

Pulling circles of darkness and tears that openly cries,

Vanish from me the coldness of your breath,

For your wind brings spring to its death.

It flickers like a candle that fights not to be snuffed out,

But ever so fragile it dares not to shout

If hither comes the light of early Spring behind your cold tresses,

Allow it to bloom in the field that is dresses.

Shrouding the color that fades into shades,

On the wings of a blacken bird you take it all away."

Frodo stood frozen in place when his eyes rested upon the loveliest hobbit that he had ever seen. Her long dark curls fell all about her small shoulders and framed her pale soft skin. Her eyes were of the deepest blue color that no spring sky could ever create or fell short from what Frodo could even imagine. She sat upon a swing with ropes tied high in a thick branch of a very tall tree.

She grasped the swing's rope into her hands and leaned her head against them. Her dark curls of her long hair hid her hands that held on the rope. Frodo could see the anguished upon her face and felt the sorrow of her song. Then without him realizing it, he heard his own voice suddenly speak.

"Why do you sing of a cold winter night, when it is a pleasant warm spring day?"

Startled by his sudden words that seemed to jump out at her, she dashed to her feet and stood frozen in place. She shouted out to the voice that questioned her. "Who are you?" she demanded sternly and standing her ground.

"Frodo," he answered, "Frodo Baggin from Brandyhall."

"You are far from your home, Mister Baggins," she told him.

"What business do you have here?"

"No business to speak of, Miss," added Frodo. "Only a day that can make your feet wander in search of what is over the next hill."

"And being in the Marish has found you your answers for your search?" she asked him.

"I've been to the Marish a time or two, when I was a young lad and still living at Brandyhall."

"Then you take your chances wandering where your feet should not take you," she reminded him.

"If you speak of the farmer and his dogs, I am aware of them and on my guard as I fear them," commented Frodo.

"But still not so fearful because you stand here on our land," she added.

"It was your voice of song that kept me from my fear. It was more beautiful than any flower or sunlit sky," He complimented her.

"Perhaps I should whisper my songs when I sit upon my swing or who's to say who else my songs would bring,"

"That would be more to pity because it would be like the Shire not having a any flowers or gardens and how sad that would be," Frodo told her.

She smiled at his answer and her cheeks turned a shade of pink being so complimented by this stranger. It encouraged Frodo while he stood and watched her.

"In telling you my name, I would very much like to know yours?"

Looking up from her swing that she sat upon and glancing at the hobbit who stood just a short distance away from her, she told him, "Minderrell Maggot, to answer your bold question, Mr. Baggins," she said with a brilliant smile that lit up her face.

Her smile sent Frodo's heart beating faster and he became lost in the beauty of her face.

The sound of dogs bellowed a hollow a short distance away that broke the spell cast upon the two who faced each other playfully. Fear instantly seized Frodo and he snapped his eyes in the direction of their hollowing. He took a few steps backward, but fought his instinct to run not wanting to leave Minderrell. But she beckoned him to run with the wave of her hand.

"Hurry, Frodo!" she exclaimed. "You must get yourself from here quickly. My Da is coming with his dogs and he'll not be so understanding as I am."

"When can I see you again?" he asked her quickly.

"That I do not know," she said. "You must hurry!"

Frodo took off running as fast as his legs could carry him.

Breathlessly, he stopped at the ferry and wiped the sweet from his brow. He was glad that he was able to get away in time before the dogs caught his scent and chased him out of the Marish. He was also saddened that he could not have spent more time with Minderrell and getting to know her a little more. She intrigued him with her wit, song and dazzling smile. Her beautiful face and her name would be impossible for him ever to forget.

Frodo smiled when he looked back from where he had come and knew in his heart that he would see her again.

When Frodo walked into Brandyhall, he went directly to his quarters and over to his desk. Envisioning the lass who had captured his heart, he took out his quill and ink and finding some parchment, he began to write her a new song to sing.

Sing me a gentle song;

For your voice my heart does long.

Your song soars on butterfly wings….

Sing to me of spring;

Of fields of flowers and beautiful things,

So you must sing to me….

Sing of trees, blue skies and distance hills,

Oh, so lovely Minderrell………..

He placed his quill into the ink and dusted his parchment to dry.

Tenderly, he folded it and placed it into his pocket and raced to the gardens of Brandyhall. There, he searched for a flower as beautiful as Minderrell.

Frodo returned back to the swing where he found her earlier in the day, but she was not their and neither were the dogs. He placed his parchment of his song and flower on the wooden swing.

Caressing the ropes where her gentle hands had touched, Frodo turned and walked away heading back towards the ferry.

The next day, Frodo returned to the swing, but did not find her there. His flower and parchment was not there either and he smiled knowing that she had found them. He again left another parchment of a song that he wrote for her because he could not get her out of his mind. Writing her these songs, eased his desire of wanting to see her. He left a flower as equally beautiful as the other.

Each day, Frodo returned back to the swing and left yet another song and beautiful flower. Each time, he would find the swing empty and his prior gifts gone. For the days that passed that he did not see her only increased his anticipation and his desire. His songs became words of longing and dreams of being with her. He spoke from his heart of what he felt and it moved him to tears from missing her.

When the days turned into a week and still no answer came from her, he felt that he had lost her and she would never come to him. He placed the last flower that he would give to her and knew that he would not return back to this swing. A tear dropped from the edge of his eye and drifted downward upon his cheek, then he turned and walked slowly away.

From behind him came a soft whisper of a song…..

"I sing to you your song of spring,

in the hopes of what your love can bring;

I come to you to sing…"

He stood frozen in place and closed his eyes tightly and listened to the soft tenderness of her song. Ever so slowly, he turned around opening his eyes to behold her.

There stood Minderrell…..


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Turnip Stew

A low flickering of the candle caused Sam to pull away from Frodo's little book and placed it beside him on his bed. Looking at the candle, he noticed that it had burnt down to just melting wax. Opening the drawer to the bedside table, his hand fumbled to find another candle. Sam took out an extra thick candle and lit it against the other, since it burnt too quickly. He knew that he could not put down his master's book, until he had completely finished reading it.

Sam's heart leaped in happiness knowing that Minderrell decided to meet with Frodo. He could not wait to turn the page and read what his master wrote next.

Settling back down in his warm cozy bed, Sam turned the page and began to read once more.

"Frodo, why have you chosen me to write these words of love?" she asked him standing there in front of him.

"How could I not, Minderrell?" he gently spoke to her. "You have touched my heart to where it is not my own anymore. You are in my every thought and in my every dream."

Her eyes raised to where the sound of his voice was coming from and for the first time standing this closely to her, Frodo noticed not only the most beautiful eyes that he had ever looked into, he also saw something else. That she could not see him, she was blind. Her song of the shades of darkness on a cold winter night now made sense to Frodo and why she sang it.

She could sense the despair within Frodo and heard a sigh that took his breath away with his realization of what she could not hide any longer. A sigh that she had recognized growing up from the pity others felt for her. "You can take your pity, Mr. Baggins and cast it to others that may seek it. I have been blind all my life and I can do much for myself."

A smile broke the corners of his lips while he looked upon her lovely face. "It is not pity that I feel for you; it is much deeper feelings that I have, Minderrell. I wish to know all that I can of you. Your blindness is only just one part and not the whole part of you. I sense a spirit in you that no blindness can hinder, a fight in you that will never give up. I see a trust in you that is not easily won, but then forever given. I see a gentle heart that can be broken and yet capable of love. It is not pity, but only of love for you that I feel."

"Your words are what I have longed to hear and it opens my heart to you. You see me fair, Frodo, and not hidden from your view. I can sense within you a quality that is very rare and a richness of spirit that has no end. For you, Frodo, I will trust this love."

She reached her hands up to his face to gently caress his features. She traced a light touch to his brow and down the straightness of his nose and over softly to his eyelids that flickered the feathery texture of his eyelashes. She pressed her hands to his cheeks and touched the soft texture of his curly hair. Her fingers traced down to his lips, touching them softly. Each feature she put to her memory and she smiled in getting to see Frodo for the very first time.

Standing this close to her and while she touched his face, Frodo too was memorizing the loveliest face that his eyes had ever beheld. Her skin appeared soft, pale and flawless and his fingers longed to touch the velvety texture that he saw, but forced his hands to remain at his side. Her thick, black eyelashes fluttered to moisten her eyes from the wind that blew upon them and framed those most magnificent eyes. Eyes that Frodo yearned would look directly into his so she could see the love he had for her. But what possessed Frodo's heart the most were the color of Minderrell's eyes. They were like a valley of crystal-blue diamonds shimmering as if the sunlight cast its brilliance upon it. Her eyes were so unforgettable that it haunted his every thought. But for the darkness that encircled them in the center of her eyes, Frodo saw a deep void, an abyss that could never be reached and it torn and rendered his heart to ache. He took both of her hands from his face and held them gently putting a light kiss upon them. Frodo knew from that moment he would always love Minderrell.

Sam placed Frodo's book to his chest and closed his eyes. In his mind, he thought of Rosie. He knew each line of her delicate face and each wrinkle. He could recall every detail of her features. Her eyes that sparkled just for him each time their eyes would meet; her soft caresses from her gentle hands, her laughter that lightened his heart and her arms that held him. Sam's heart heaved inside of him and the hurt of missing Rosie cascaded throughout him. What Frodo had written in his book about his feelings for Minderrell, Sam knew them also with his wife, for he had loved Rosie with all of his heart. Again Sam forced his thoughts away from his wife which were too painful to recall.

Sam's thoughts turned to Minderrell Maggot. He had met the Maggots many long years ago when Frodo, Merry, Pippin and himself trying to flee the Shire. It was Farmer Maggot that came to their aid. Sam remembered meeting this family, but not anyone called Minderrell. Not even Farmer Maggot gave Frodo any special attention or recognition concerning this delicate matter. But mostly he knew Mr. Frodo and he knew his master's heart. If a love this strong existed with his master, there would have been a marriage and everyone in the Shire would have known about it. This Sam knew about his Master and no one could convince him otherwise, not even Mr. Frodo himself. Something must have happened, something that would have been so ominous to erase this memory from the minds of everyone involved and only left in mention within the tale of this small book. Could it only have been a wishful dream that played within his master's mind, was she truly real?

Sam's eyes returned back to Frodo's book and read on.

Frodo watched her sure steps walking the same familiar path that led to her home, a path that she must have walked a million times throughout her life. Minderrell held Frodo's hand when she led him to the doorway and felt him slightly pull away. Understanding his fear, she quietly announced to him so only he could hear. "My da has gone hunting, Frodo, and will be gone for a few weeks. He has taken his dogs with him. You need not have fear of them, I will keep you safe."

Frodo smiled at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "My Mum is in the kitchen cooking her finest turnip stew seasoned with spicy mushrooms. You can smell the seasonings from out here."

Frodo took in a deep sniff and also smelt the wonderful meal being prepared.

When she opened the door to her home and allowed Frodo to enter first ahead of her, she closed the door and stood next to him. A small group of hobbits joined the young couple varying in age.

"Hullo, Frodo Baggins," the older male tween stretched out his hand to greet him. "I'm Minderrell's oldest brother, Napus."

Frodo shook his hand and nodded his greeting to him. He was a bit amazed that they all knew of him since he was not properly introduced to them before. He smiled at Minderrell and knew his name was often spoken about within this family.

"My name is Meadow, Mr. Baggins, Minderrell's sister," and she too shook his hand.

The next eldest of her brothers came forward and reached his hand out to him. "I'm Tabagus,"

A younger lass shyly approached and smiled in her greeting to Frodo. "My name is Bell Morel," and lightly touched his hand and went to stand behind her older sister, Meadow.

Napus Maggot again approached Frodo, "There are two other brothers that are not here, but working the fields with our two-hired lads that live here with us also. You will meet them later in the day."

Minderrell took Frodo's arm and guided him towards the kitchen to meet her mother. Frodo watched her carefully as she skillfully maneuvered around chairs and tables with all sorts of decorative items upon it. There was a large flowerpot sitting upon the floor and she knew just when to sidestep in order not to bump into it. Even though Minderrell was blind, she was very capable within her home that she grew-up in.

Mrs. Maggot stood over her cook stove stirring big pots that boiled and steamed. She was short, chubby type of hobbitess that looked like she had enjoyed her cooking as much as she liked making her meals for her family and her kitchen gave evidence of this. There were short barrels sitting lined up across the tops of her cupboards and filled full of mushrooms, turnips, onions and potatoes. Frodo saw baskets of carrots, tomatoes and rutabagas. She had glass jars of canned jellies, salt pork and numerous other types of canned products. There were fresh breads sitting on thick slaps of bakery boards and a big bowl of churned butter sitting next to them. The strong smell of her spices filled the room and gave promise to family and guest of culinary delight. No stomach ever went empty from Mrs. Maggot's table.

"Minderrell, get yer Mum a jar 'o me best sweet pickles and put'em in a serv'n bowl," she asked over her shoulder while she stirred her big pot of turnip stew. "Mr. Baggins, me wash tub is over 'ere, clean yer hands good and proper and then ya can help me daughter set the table. 'is 'ere turnip stew needs a close eyes upon it. If'n its not cooked enough, tis tough a chew'n and too much cook'n makes it tasteless and stringy. Ya need not worry yerself none, I make the finest turnip stew 'at teeth ever been sunk in ta."

He never doubted it a minute that Mrs. Maggot's turnip stew was the finest. Even the cooks at Brandyhall paid the old hobbitess homage over her turnip stew and none could make it equal to her. Turnips and mushrooms were in abundance here in the Marish and the hobbits were happy to pay Farmer Maggot his asking price.

Frodo would have been envied by every Bucklander sitting at the table of the Maggots sharing a fine meal with them. They'd all come a knocking on their door, if it was not for their dogs that kept them away.

Frodo nodded politely and noticed all the jars lined up in her cupboard. The jars set three rows deep and there were more than just pickles in them. He worried if Minderrell would be able to find them from the other items that sat on the shelf. Making an attempt to help her by reaching his hand up towards the pickles, he suddenly realized that it was unnecessary. Minderrell stroked her hands across the rows of the jars, counting them and stopped when her hands touched the pickles. Taking it down, she opened them. Frodo soon realized that she did not need any help what so ever and marveled again at her skills.

He went to the wash tub and began to wash up for one of the best meals that he would eat. His mouth watered just being in the kitchen.

Sam's mouth watered also reading about what Frodo wrote in his book about Mrs. Maggot and her turnip stew. He was no longer concerned about Minderrell's blindness or how Frodo was getting along with the young lass. His stomach now ached with hunger and all he could think about was turnip stew.

There was just no sleep for this old hobbit tonight. His mind was so occupied with his old master, Minderrell, missing his dearly-departed wife, feeling guilty for reading Frodo's secrets and now an empty stomach that only wanted to eat turnip stew. This was sure turning out to be one of Sam's most perplexing nights that he had ever spent.

The old hobbit climbed out of his bed and covered his shoulders with one of Rosie's knitted shawls. Taking his candle he slowly made his way down the long corridors of Bag End, heading to the kitchen.

Opening his pantry door, Sam scoured through the jars, baskets and barrels, but not one turnip could be found. There were tomatoes, potatoes, a few head of cabbages and a basket of onions.

But they would not satisfy Sam's appetite, not when one is thinking about turnip stew. He looked through his pickle jar, but it was empty and the basket next to it only held three old dried out mushrooms that have long since lost their flavor. He went over to his stone countertop when he spied a crust of bread and half of a wedge of cheese heavily waxed to keep it fresh, sitting next it. Taking his knife, he cut a good chunk from the wedge of cheese and shaved off the wax coating. When he picked up the crust of bread, it was harden and dried out. He banged it upon the stone countertop and knew it was not fit for eating. He would have to wait until his cook came in the morning with fresh bread from her oven. Picking-up the wedge of cheese and his lit candle, Sam headed back to his bed and Frodo's small book.

Farmer Maggot's eldest son's came in with their two hired-hands that joined them. One was introduced as Boletac and Agaric Maggot, while his hired hands were called Togo Marlgrass, and his younger brother Podo. They were stout lads of thick arms and shoulders and upon their hairy feet shown the earth that they treaded and ground in clay upon their fingers. Still Frodo stood and shook their hands proudly.

After the lads washed up and joined the others at the table, almost every seat was taken, except one. Even the three bowls that sat on a woven circular rug in front of the hearth sat empty and unoccupied. Frodo was thankful for this since he held to truth what Farmer Maggot promised if he had ever stepped foot on his land again that his dogs would eat him.

Pots were passed and heavy ladle spoons were filled-full and placed on empty plates in front of those that dined. Bowls of the finest turnip stew were filled and glasses poured of fresh warm goats milk and they all sat back eating, laughing and sharing their stories. Frodo never enjoyed himself more than sitting with this family and especially Minderrell by his side.

Sam let out a grown just reading this and rubbed his empty belly that growled.

When the afternoon wore on, the Maggots and their guest went outside on their large porch because the temperature became too hot to sit inside. Minderrell asked Frodo to take a walk with her around their farm. Holding hands, they strolled over to the grove of trees. The shade of the trees provided made the warmer temperatures easier to bear and with the creek just on the other side of the grove, Frodo walked Minderrell over to it so they could soak their feet into the water.

Frodo had a chance to tell Minderrell about his life growing up at Brandy Hall. Knowing Minderrell could not see, Frodo told her in many details describing everything of great importance to her about the hobbits that lived there and Brandy Hall.

"The biggest slope is upon Buck Hill, the slope is vast and it seems to go on forever. When you're traveling from the east you can see the four large rounded doors that are thickly made and heavily craved. The doors lead off into many fine tunnels with carves beams and wooden wall. They say there are over hundred windows and other smaller doors to get you where you want to go and just on the other side of Brandy Hall is Bucklebury and you can get almost anything you may want in their stores and shops."

"Oh, Frodo, it sounds wonderful!" exclaimed Minderrell. "You must take me there someday."

"Someday, Minderrell, I would love to take you there and to Hobbiton to meet my Uncle Bilbo. His home is equally impressive and is one of the largest smials one could possible imagine. One day, I hope you come to love Bag End as much as I do." Frodo told her.

"Frodo, you have been to so many places and seen so many things," she commented. "I on the other hand have hardly ever left my home."

"You will one day, Minderrell. I will take you to those places and you will experience everything there is in the Shire," Frodo promised her.

Frodo stood in the water where he was soaking his feet into the creek and began to wade further in to see how deep it was.

"Frodo?" questioned Minderrell. She could hear the lapping of water from Frodo's feet while he waded out in the water. "What are you doing?"

"The day is so hot that I thought perhaps you and I could go swimming in the creek. The water is only waste high and it has an even bottom. Would you like to try it?"

"I would be too fearful to try such a thing," she told him.

"If I promise to hold you and not let you go, would you try it with me?"

Minderrell bit her bottom lip worrying if she should or not. Her feet felt cool and comfortable, but the heat of the hot day was making the rest of her feel hot and sticky. Allowing her adventurous side to take over, she stood and held her hands out for Frodo to carry her.

Picking her up in his arm, Frodo slowly waded out in the water with Minderrell and slowly allowed her to become wet a little bit at a time the deeper he walked into the water. She squeezed Frodo neck holding on to him for dear life, but Frodo gently talked to her and made her feel comfortable and relaxed. She loved how cool the water felt all around her and she no longer felt hot and miserable.

Frodo had his arms around her small waste and she leaned the back of her head against his shoulder. Allowing her feet to raise to the top of the water, she marveled how wonderful it felt just floating. He taught her how to paddle her feet and stroke the water with her arms. From time to time, he would let go of her for just a moment to show her that she did not need him to stay afloat in the water. When he did this, Minderrell would stop paddling her legs and stroking the water with her arms. However, Frodo was right there and immediately gathered her up in his arms. She clung on to him, holding him tightly. "You promised not to let go," she declared to him.

"But you were swimming on your own and you did not need me to hold you up," he told her.

Minderell raised the lids of her eyes in surprise as she too realized that she did not sink in the water but stayed afloat as long as she paddled her feet and stroked her arms. She immediately wanted to try it again. This time, she told Frodo to back away from her and she paddled and stroked her arms in the water and swam over to him.

Laughing with excitement, Minderrell flung her arms around him proclaiming, "I did it, Frodo. I can swim!"

She hugged him tenderly to thank him.

Frodo was amazed with the lass he held in his arms, at her fearlessness. It reminded him of another fearless lass that had taught him how to swim in the Brandywine River. It was his mother. Stroking her wet hair, he slightly pulled her away from him so he could see her face. "Now you must give me a promise, Minderell."

"Yes, Frodo, anything," she told him still laughing.

"You must promise never to go swimming by yourself and you must always wait until I am with you," said Frodo.

And from his serious tone of voice, Minderell knew that this promise meant a great deal to Frodo. "Yes, Frodo, I promise never to go swimming without you."

Then to fade the seriousness from that moment, Frodo dunked her into the water and she splashed water into his face, while the two laughed holding each other and playing in the water. Their laughter rang out with delightful squeals and giggles that her brother, Napus heard and observed.

Frodo carried her from the creek, holding her tenderly in his arms and laid her down upon the grass, joining her. Stroking her wet hair to dry it in the warmth of the breeze that met them, Frodo felt the softness of her face that he had longed to touch. Their laughter suddenly stopped and Minderrell could sense that Frodo wished to kiss her.

She raised her hand to his cheek and guided his lips to hers and she kissed him tenderly under the shade of the grove of trees.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Swing

The days turned into a week and Frodo continued to stop by Minderell's swing and waited for her to join him. Frodo feared that Farmer Maggot would suddenly appear with his dogs and meeting Minderell here felt safe and secure for him. The tree in which the swing hung was just on the edge of the Maggot's farm. It was the tallest tree upon their land with branches thick enough to support the ropes that held it. This was a special place for Minderell, a place where she could forget her blindness and her battles to maneuver and learn how to deal with what she could not see. Being here with Frodo gave them time to be alone with each other since there were so many in her family.

Frodo would bring her one of his many books from Brandy Hall and read to her the stories and songs that had occupied his earlier years growing up without his parents.

Dinodas, the brother of Primula, Frodo's mother, took Frodo into their residence and raised him as his own.

"Frodo, tell me of your mother and father?" Minderell asked him after hearing that he lived with his uncle. "How did they die?"

The pain immediately etched Frodo's face every time he would think about them. But for Minderell, that look was lost to her. Imagines of his parents came into his mind and he could clearly see his mother's soft and soothing face and the thick curls of her long, dark-brown hair. He could feel the safety of her arms that use to hold him. He could almost hear the tenderness of her voice that only his memories could now recall. Then to imagines of her still white-face that lye in death within a coffin. Frodo felt the cold, heat of pain that rendered his heart while all the buried emotions came to the surface. His throat seemed to tighten and he struggled trying to get any words out to tell her. Tears filled his eyes and he blinked desperately trying to contain them. Bottling his emotions he tried quickly to speak.

"In a boating…….," he choked upon his words and forced those imagines too painful to remember from his mind. "A boating accident," he slowly recovered.

His words were not lost to Minderell, while she caught the pain within them.

She reached her arms around him and pulled him into her embrace. Her arms that held him were like being in the arms of his mother and her words she gently spoke to him were the love that he had sought and they both came to together as one in the love that Minderrell gave to him. What Frodo tried to bury deep within his heart, exploded in deep retching sobbing in the comfort of her arms. For within her embrace was the love that Frodo had needed and that love opened the gates he barred and would never allow to surface.

"I love you, Frodo," she whispered softly to him while she stroked his hair to comfort him.

Her soft spoken words unexpectedly seemed to ease the deep pain and his heart that was so badly broken suddenly mended. The pain was finally gone. It was her love that healed him.

His lip quivered first and then slow tears began to fall from the corners that ran down the deep wrinkles of his face. Sam put Frodo's book down upon his chest and wiped his tears from his eyes. Lying there upon his bed, his memories took him back to the time when he was just a small lad when his mother suddenly died. It was Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo that eased his pain. Frodo had always been there for Sam when he needed him the most and from that, Sam's loyalty to his master never wavered. Sam's eye again returned to this little book that now pocessed him.

Napus carried baskets of ground-up corn to feed the pigs and the chickens when he noticed Frodo and his sister exchanging a good-bye kiss with each other by her swing. He cast disapproving glance towards them and continued on to the barn.

He could hear Minderrell's sweet delicate voice singing an enchanting song while her arms swayed by her side making her way passed the barn and heading towards their home. Napus could clearly see the happiness that seemed to glow within her and he had a twinge of guilt from his distrust of Frodo.

Going into the chicken coop to feed the chickens, while they gathered all around him, Napus suddenly noticed her song had stopped almost in mid-sentence. Thinking this very odd, he turned around quickly to see that his sister was lying upon the ground mid-way from the barn to the house. He dropped the basket of feed upon the ground and ran from the chicken coop, calling out her name, "Minderrell!" he shouted.

Picking her up in his arms, he could see her ashen-white face and pale white lips. Napus called out to his brothers and scooped her up into his arms and carried her in their home. In the far distance, howls of barking echoed into the Marish.

Sam bolted straight up in his bed with his eyes wild and widened. "No!" he cried out loud. "Frodo can not lose Minderrell, too!"

Sam closed the book in his hands and grasped it tightly as to choke it. "You're a villain is what you are!" shouted Sam at this small book. "You give me no rest and you starve my stomach, and you cause my heart to hurting!"

Sam flung the book across the room and watched it bang loudly upon his wall. "You're no better than Gollum and I think I'd rather be walking beside him than the likes of you!"

Sam stood from his bed and began to pace in his room. His mind raced thinking about Frodo and what he was about to suffer yet again. No one deserved to suffer in life like his beloved master had suffered, while Sam's life was full of love, too much love from all of his thirteen children and more grandchildren than he could possibly recall. He had the love of his life with Rosie and shared such a happiness that completely filled his heart.

"It's not fair," Sam paced again. "He should have had my life and I'm the one who should have had his," he again shouted that this small book.

Sam closed his eyes and went back in his memory to the day he married Rosie and Frodo asking him to move into Bag End with him.

"Samwise Gamgee Gardner, you're such a fool!" he proclaimed, "You're a ninny-hammer and there's no getting away from it!"

Sam felt guilty for each time he caressed Rosie's hand while Frodo sat on the other side of the table eating his lunch and watching their playful gestures. How Frodo's heart must have broken each time Sam kissed his wife or held her and then remembering Minderrell and a life that he would never have. No wonder Frodo left for the Grey Havens. Then Sam began to remember Frodo's words after he told him he was leaving, '_There are some things that time can not mend. There are some hurts that go too deep that has taken hold.'_

Sam sunk to his bed, sitting down and placed his head into his hands and began to weep for Frodo when those meanings from his words became clearer and Sam understood them more.

When his tears eased, Sam looked at the book lying upon his bedroom floor. He already knew that he would finish reading it. He felt he must, no matter how painful. Sam also remembered another thing that he had learned during his travels across middle-earth; '_There is always hope, even when there is no reasoning for it_…'

Sam snatched the little book up abruptly and walked slowly back to his bed. He paged through the book to find his last page that he had read and to begin again from there.

Fearing what was written upon this page, Sam clung to his hope that somehow everything would be okay….

From the moment Frodo entered into the residence of his uncle, and greeted him, Dinodas saw a sparkle in his eyes that seemed to illuminate his entire spirit.

"Frodo, is there anything that you wish to tell me?" Dinodas asked him.

Smiling at his uncle, Frodo only shook his head, "No, uncle, why do you ask?"

"There is a look about you that is somehow different," he commented while he placed his hand upon Frodo's shoulder.

"I feel like I have been asleep for a very long time, and today, I feel like I have finally awaken," Frodo told him with a smile upon his lips that seemed to come from the very essence of him.

"Keep your secret if that is what you wish, but whatever has awoken you today, keep it close to your heart and never let it go," his uncle added and felt like a great weight had been lifted from him. He had longed for the day when Frodo would put his grief aside and find peace within him. When Frodo's parents died, a piece of Frodo died with them, a piece of him that Dinodas thought would never reemerge again.

Dinodas stood by and watched his nephew while he took an apple from the basket in their kitchen and headed down their short tunnel to his bedroom. There was a snap in Frodo's steps and a smile of pure delight to where it was infection and made Dinodas suddenly feel like giggling….

"Oh, the lad has to be in love," he snickered, saying it to himself out-loud.

Frodo put his half eaten apple upon his desk and walked over to his chest that belonged to his mother and he opened it carefully.

Inside the chest were many of Primula's things that Frodo could not or would not let go of. Her wedding dress carefully preserved and wrapped in tissue paper, her knitted shawl that she wore to keep herself warm in the evenings. Frodo's hands gently caressed it and remembered how she use to wrap him into it, while he was sit upon his mother's lap, when he was a very young child. These memories use to make Frodo cry from missing her so much. However, today, Frodo smiled with these precious memories of his mother.

Yes, Frodo was in love and for the first time in his life, he had a dream for his future. Finding the small little box carefully tucked away in the far corner of the chest, he took it out and opened it. There sitting inside the box was his mother's and his father's wedding rings. He picked up his mother's ring first to examine it and his mind began to picture his life with Minderrell. He saw his wedding day, standing in the great hall surrounded by hundreds of flowers from the grand garden of Brandy Hall. There would be hundreds of Brandybucks gathered around him, from his closes cousins, uncles, aunts, and distant relatives. He imagined his Uncle Bilbo standing by his side congratulating him and he could see Minderrell, her beautiful face and her long, dark-brown hair tied with an array of flowers. He could see her standing there in a wedding dress, white and lacey, holding in her delicate hands a bouquet of wedding flowers. He could feel in his heart a happiness that was beyond anything that he had ever felt before.

Yes, tomorrow, Frodo would fall on one knee and ask her to be his wife.

Frodo placed the small ring upon his finger and he went in search for his best vest that he would wear tomorrow and placed the ring into the pocket.

Tomorrow, his life would be changed forever……..

Mrs. Maggot boiled a big pot of water upon her stove and waited for her husband to join her in the kitchen.

Hearing his familiar foot steps, she turned to see him pulling his handkerchief from his pocket with something tied into it.

"See'n what ya got there, ya musta found him in the 'O Forest," Mrs. Maggot pointed out.

"Grip found him first and led me to him," commented Farmer Maggot. "He was in his voice singing as he does. He's known to walk with very quick steps and it's weary in follow'n, as it were."

"Ya had words with him, did ya not?" Mrs. Maggot asked of her husband.

"Yes, we spoke and he gave me these 'ere mushrooms to the likes that I've never seen afore," Farmer Maggot told her. He opened his handkerchief and showed his wife Tom Bombadil's mushrooms.

"Oh, there queer look'n to say the least," she mentioned.

"There not fer eat'n, mother, there fer medicine for Minderrell," he told her. "Old Tom Bombadil says 'is 'ere will cure her. First, she'll sleep fer a time and then when she wakes, her illness will pass."

Farmer Maggot took out his knife and began to chop the mushroom into pieces. Taking a stone, he crushed them until they were a finely pressed. He asked his wife for a cup of boiling water and he added the pressed mushrooms into the cup. Waiting until it cooled, he took a spoon and went into Minderrell's bedroom.

Napus and his brothers moved from her bedside when he saw his Da coming in with the medicine for Minderrell.

"Send yer brothers to the fields and harvest the turnips, take wolf and Fang with you, but have Grip stay upon the porch," Farmer Maggot ordered his sons.

"I'll stay with Minderrell to watch her through the night," Napus asked his father.

"So be it," said Farmer Maggot and sat down upon the bed next to his daughter. Lifting her weak form from her pillow, she barely had enough strength to swallow the medicine that her father spooned in her mouth. Before she even finished it, she fell into a deep sleep. Tucking her into the bed, Farmer Maggot ushered everyone from the bedroom and only allowed Napus to stay and watch her.

"Keep closes eyes upon her and wake me if need be," he told his son and walked out of her room. He left her door open so he could hear if he was to be called in the middle of the night.

The hours pasted while Napus sat in the chair reading from one of his books and from time to time, he would go over to see if Minderrell was still sleeping. His eyes became heavy with the need of sleep. Sitting back into his chair, he thought to close them for just a few minutes. After all, Minderrell was sleeping well and he doubted that she would be waking up at all this night.

It was almost dawn when Minderrell's eyes gradually began to open. Still in a great fog of mind from the mushrooms her father gave her, she sat up in her bed. First a dark shadow with bits of light began to create imagines from her eyes and then slowly the light began to increase and she could almost make out the candle that burnt upon the table by her bed. Blinking her eyes tightly to clear the fogginess, she tried to focus her vision, but still she could not make out anything definite, nor did she see her brother that was sleeping in the chair. She rose from her bed upon wobbly legs and steadied herself against the wall. She saw a light that seemed to glow in the distance and she walked towards it, heading out of her room. Standing in darkness and bits of light, she thought she could hear someone singing in the far distance and she strained her ears trying to listen.

She walked towards the enchanting tones that played in her mind. Frodo's voice seemed to be calling her and in her fogginess of mind, she followed the voice she thought was his.

Out the front door her wobbly legs led her. Grip lifted his head from his paws and watched her for a moment before returning back to his slumber knowing the hobbit that he saw.

She walked into the darkness of the night following the song that she thought Frodo was singing.

Soon, her hands touched the tree and she could hear the rushing of water from the creek in front of her. Then an image of light seemed to rise in front of her, beckoning her to come closer to it. Minderrell sensed it was Frodo and waded into the water and held her arms open for him to carry her, just like he did when he taught her to swim.

An abrupt rush of icy-cold darkness took her and suddenly the air was gone that she breathed and she fell into a blackness that she could not awaken from.

……………………

A/N: Thank you to all who are reading this story, your review would be very welcomed and helps me in writing this little story. I know that I am leaving you at a very bad spot, and a lot of your questions will be answered later on in the upcoming chapters, and I promise you it will all make sense in the end…..(Gosh, I hope so anyway)…


	4. Chapter 4 Keeping Both Your Eyes Open

Chapter 4

Keeping Both Your Eyes Open

The fading shade of nightfall gave way to the dawn of first morning light and with that so did Frodo. He opened the third round door to the entrance of Brandy Hall and stood upon the grass thick with morning dew. A low lying mist began to lift just over the tops of the rolling hills in Buckland. When the sun rays grazed over the mist it filtered a red-orange glow to the sea of tall grass that grew in and around Brandy Hall.

Songs of birds exploded in rhythmic tones with the greeting of the new day. It only added to the happiness he was already feeling with the plans that he had made. Today was going to be a day that he would remember for his entire life, a day that he would ask Minderrell to be his wife.

Frodo knew that Minderrell would not be at the swing yet, where they met almost daily, it would be closer to second breakfast before he would even leave Brandy Hall for the Marish.

As it was customary with most hobbits, when asking for a lass's hand in marriage, was to bring the attending family gifts. This early morning hour would find Frodo in the market square of Bucklebury to purchase items hard to find in the wetlands of the Marish.

Farmer Maggot was due back soon from his trip to the Old Forest and Frodo greatly feared this meeting with him. He had hoped that with his purchase of the finest pipe-weed from the South Farthing would at least soften the old farmer up some so he would at least allow Frodo to speak with him. For Mrs. Maggot, Frodo thought of giving her a large bushel basket of freshly picked apples and bags of sugar for her pantry. He knew these commodities in the Marish would be greatly received and valued by those that lived in there.

He would also purchase a bolt of weaved cloth to exchange for Mrs. Maggot's turnips stew and mushrooms to present to the Master of Buckland as a gift, so he would marry them at Brandy Hall.

Frodo's morning was going to be very busy, going from shop to shop, but at the end of the day, his dreams were all going to come true, Minderrell would soon be his wife.

His pockets were filled with the coins from his inheritance after his parent's passing and even Dinodas sweetened his pot by add a few more coins just because he was so happy.

After hours of bargaining with the storekeepers and then finding out they were completely out of sugar, Frodo opted to purchase a large package of freshly cured bacon from the storekeeper. When Frodo had his purchases, he headed to Buckleburry Ferry to take it across the Brandywine River and then to the Marish.

The ropes on the ferry Frodo pulled seemed unwieldy and weighty as if something did not want him to make it across the Brandywine River. The waves in the water hit the sides with extra force and made it appear to pitch and pause in place rather than move forward. Frodo planted his feet firmly upon the wooden floor and tugged on the ropes only to gain minimal distance. His muscles in his arms and shoulders ached from the exertion and strain he was putting in this effort. Fighting the current and the waves to what seemed like an hour; the ferry finally hit the shores of the Marish.

Setting his feet in the wetlands, he tied the ropes securely to the pole and went back on ferry to retrieve his purchases for the Maggots. He gathered his backpack and hoisted it upon his shoulders and turned to the path that would lead in the directions of the farm.

He envisioned Minderrell's lovely face and her laughter echoed in his mind the closer he got to the swing and their usual meeting place. It was unusual for the lateness of the hour it took Frodo to accomplish his deeds as he expected Minderrell to be sitting upon her swing waiting for him. But she was not there. Putting down his backpack on the ground in front of the swing, he stretched his back and looked at the swing and then further down the path to the farm where she lived. There were no usual activities going on in the courtyard of the farm from her brothers who worked with the animals and crops that they tended. Frodo thought queer of this.

He sat upon her swing to wait and viewed the courtyard of the farm in the hopes that she would soon join him. The squeak of the swing's rope against the bark on the branch of the tree caused one of the dogs to perk his ears up and then his head. At the same time, Frodo noticed the dog. In one swift bolt of speed, Wolf lunged from the porch racing to the swing and the stranger upon it. Frodo only had a moment to clutch the swings rope and climbed it to the top. Hoisting his leg over the branch, he pulled himself to safety from the vicious dog.

Snarling jagged teeth and ear piercing barking alerted the family within the farm house. Frodo frantically clutched the safety of the thick branch that kept him away from the fierce dog below him. Adjusting himself upon the branch just a little, he got himself in a better position. However in doing so, tore the front pocket of his very best vest upon the coarseness of the bark. Frodo watched in horror as his mother's ring fell from the tree onto the ground in front of the dog. Frodo kept his eye upon the spot where it had fallen so he could find it when one of the Maggots called their dog off.

Three of Minderrell's brothers raced from the farm house to where Wolf had corned the trespasser. Seeing who it was, Boletac pulled Wolf away from the swing, while Agaric called to Frodo to come down. Napus's eyes burned angrily up at Frodo and he clutched his fists to his side. Boletac took Wolf into the house, while Mrs. Maggot shut the door so he could not get out. The two returned to the swing and just in time, when Napus grabbed Frodo by his weskit and crossed his fists against his face. Frodo fell from his feet, while Agaric grabbed his brother to restrain him.

Frodo lifted his arm in protection to cover the throbbing pain of his bleeding cheek from the blow that Napus gave him. He cast unbelievable eyes upon the two brothers struggling in front of him, until something else redirected his attention away from them. His eyes then caught a glimpse of his mother's ring lying upon the ground in the grass and he quickly picked it up and held it in his fist.

Agaric's loud angry voice shouted at his brother to contain him while he tried to hold him in place, "Napus, have you lost your mind completely!"

Napus's wild angry eyes glared at his brother, "I saw 'em, Agaric, with my own eyes!" he shouted at his brother. "I saw the two 'o 'em swimming in the creek, him shown her the queer ways of the water. Yer protecting a murderer! He kilt Minderrell as if his hand held a dagger, and with his lips gave her a kiss."

Agaric shoved his brother to the ground, while Boletac came around him and with a thick hand grabbed the back of his collar and hoisted him to stand, ending the confrontation between them. "Our sister is dead and our Mum is heartsick, Napus! Tis' is not the time fer ya ta be going off half cocked!"

Frodo dropped his arm to his side that held his mother's ring and sat there frozen in his place. He no longer felt the throbbing pain that welted against his cheek and as if time suddenly stood still, everything in front of him moved one frame at a time. Boletac and Napus's words echoed into his mind, "Our sister is dead;"… "He kilt Minderrell;"… "Murderer!"

A war of emotions collided and split only to regroup and attacked again and again in his mind. Neither mind nor heart would surrender to the other-­­­­­-- they were equal in strength and power. The blood rushed from his head and his heart struggled to pump the blood even faster, pulsating and pounding in the confines of his chest.

His arms and legs awkwardly tried to respond to his will to stand and he forced each one to do so.

It was the kindness of Mrs. Maggot that came to his aid and grasped his hands and held them. Only then did Frodo feel the war of emotions within him surrender and allowed him his own free-will. He could see the tears flowing from the old hobbitess's eyes that ran down the wrinkles and lines of her aged face. A face so heartbroken and forlorn, it would be forever engrained into his mind for all time to come. Her voice so weak from weeping it trembled with each word that she spoke. "Napus, should not 'ave done what he did ta ya, my dear boy, nor say what he has. Tis true 'o his words 'at me poor Minderrell fell in the creek and twas drown just afore dawn this morning. Napus found her and has not been himself since."

She paused a moment wiping the tears with a kerchief she had knotted in her hands and then added, "nor any 'o us fer that matter."

The grief from Frodo's heart burst from the core of him and mixed with the sadness all around him. His tears flowed freely down his cheeks and his voice quivered and quaked while he tried to speak to Minderrell's mother. "Where…." He paused, struggling and choking on his words, "Where is she? I must see her…"

"She ain't here, Mr. Baggins," she spoke, but those words tore at her heart once more and she sobbed trying to tell him. "Me dear husband has taken her to the Old Forest, to the one who walks those lands." Pausing for a moment and through her choking voice, she added. "He plans to bury her by the pond of the lady 'o the forest where her songs would be sung upon her fer all time ta come."

Frodo cast unbelievable eyes upon Mrs. Maggot almost pleading to her that all she told him could not possibly be true. "No," cried Frodo with his heart equally broken, "No…"

Before his mind could recognize what he would next, Frodo found himself running through the Marish as fast as his legs could carry him. He would run until he had no breath left in him to reach the gates of the High Hay and stop Farmer Maggot from his quest.

Sam's lips narrowed thinly as did his old wrinkled eyes, He knew if someone would have taken Rosie from him, even in her death that he too would have found and fought any manner of evil creature in this world or not and even Sauron himself, if need be. He clutched the bed sheet into his tight fist as if he welded Sting in his hand. "Go get him Mr. Frodo and give him what for!" shouted Sam in his anger.

If Sam could have willed himself into the book at that moment he would have done so just to help Mr. Frodo.

What trouble bothered the ferry before now glided with swiftness across the Brandywine River to the other side. The ferry impacted the land and came to an abrupt stop when Frodo leaped from it and took off in a flash running as if Farmer Maggots dogs were hot on his trail.

Frodo only paused a few moments bending down upon his foot to look at the fresh track marks left in the dirt from the small cart pulled by a pony. He also saw the farmer's foot prints and those left by his two dogs and they were upon the path that would lead them towards the High Hay. Dogs or no dogs, Frodo would find them and confront Farmer Maggot.

He could see Brandy Hall in the distance while he ran and walked, interspersing between the two to save as much of his strength. The path that he followed curved around the far side of where the Brandybuck's lived within Buck Hill. The path continued a wide curve passed Bucklebury and then straight on until the High Hay Gate. This took Frodo most of the entire afternoon and then into early part of the evening before he neared the fearsome gate. He watched the clouds begin to fill the sky while he walked feeling exhaustion taking a hold of him. Frodo would not allow his thoughts to turn to Minderrell or of her passing. Those feeling he would save for later and barred them deep within himself. Instead he focused upon the path, the tracks in which he followed, the fierce dogs that could possibly eat him, and of the Farmer in which he knew so little about, but still enough to fear him.

Dawn was fast approaching when Frodo got close enough to the gate to see it. He felt that he had failed and Farmer Maggot had passed through the gate and was now in the Old Forest.

He felt his legs wanting to give and grabbed the bars of the locked gate at the same time to steady himself. Leaning his face against the cold iron of the bars, he was ready to succumb to his grief when he heard something behind him.

Snarling growls exploded in the low lighting of dawn and he turned quickly when one of the two dogs pounced upon him knocking him to the ground. All Frodo could see were the sharp fangs of the vicious dog in which he feared the most upon him.

"Stay yer mark!" shouted the Old Farmer at his dogs.

The dog that sat upon Frodo's chest immediately obeyed withdrawing his fangs and retreating back to its master.

Frodo immediately sat up and faced the fearsome farmer and his dogs.

"Ya have courage, Mr. Baggins," said Farmer Maggot and extended his hand to help Frodo stand.

Frodo took his hand and slowly raised himself to his feet. From behind Farmer Maggot, Frodo could see the pony and the cart and knew what was in it. Taking a few step around the farmer, Frodo peered into the cart and the blanket that covered the one that he loved and he cried just from the site of it as if all hope was gone.

Farmer Maggot's thick hand came down upon Frodo's shoulder and it startled him not knowing what the farmer would do to him.

The round, red faced hobbit had a kindly sparkle within his eyes that gentled Frodo's fear of him. Giving Frodo a nod, he beckoned him to say his final good-byes to his daughter.

He climbed into the cart and kneeled down to her and pulled the blanket from her still form. There, just like in the image of his mother when she died, laid the one he loved the most in his life. The one he would have married and lived and loved his entire life with. The one who would have bared his children and breathed life back into him, now took the heart of him.

Death had taken all those that Frodo had loved and needed in his life. No gentle arms would ever hold him, nor kiss him. No words of love would ever be spoken to him or from him.

He reached around her and brought her lifeless form within his arms and stroked the long lengths of her dark curly hair and stroked the gentle softness of her flawless cheek. Frodo then reached into his pocket and took out the ring of his mother and placed it upon her finger. Then with the last kiss from his lips, Frodo said good-bye to the only one that he would ever love and held her tightly sobbing out the last of what grief was left within him.

The gentle scene beheld by the farmer touched the core of him and brought tears to his aged eyes. Pulling Frodo from the side of his daughter, he embraced Frodo in his strong, thick arms.

Through Frodo's sobbing and inconsolable words, he spoke to Farmer Maggot, "It was I that taught her to swim. It's my fault. I caused this to happen to her!"

"No, Frodo," came Farmer Maggot's words. "There's things in the world 'at are meant to be and things 'at happen fer a reason. There not clear to the looker 'at bears witness 'o 'em, but none the less is sound when yer eyes are both open. Ya have to open yer eyes, Frodo, ya have to keep both open ta see clearly. There are possibilities of this world that closed eyes could never understand nor ever care ta see, but it's there Frodo as long as both yer eyes can see it."

Frodo pulled away from Farmer Maggot and looked him directly into his wise old eyes and was touched by the words that he had spoken. With tears flowing from his eyes, he spoke to him, "I don't understand, Farmer Maggot. I can not see the meaning of why she is taken away from me when I loved her and needed her so…"

His fingers embedded with clay, lifted Frodo's chin so he could peer into his tear streaked eyes and spoke to him, "Ya will Frodo Baggins, Ya will understand one day when ya keep both yer eyes open and can see things clearly, then ya will understand."

Farmer Maggot walked away from Frodo and gathered the blanket in his hands and covered his daughter's face and body.

Frodo cried with a deep sobbing, "Please, do not take her into the Old Forest where I will never be able to follow and find her. Bury her at Brandy Hall next to my mother and father," he begged and pleaded.

"It is because I take her to the Old Forest 'at you will find yer peace, Frodo. In this, I know what I speak," Farmer Maggot told him.

Farmer Maggot gave a whistle to his dogs that came running to his side and he opened the High Hay gate wide and walked over to his pony and led them into the Old Forest.

Frodo's knees collapsed from under him and he sunk to the ground moaning out his grief from his heart so badly broken and he heard the iron-gate snap shut and the locks securely placed so no one could enter.

………

A/N: Elwen, Sorry about my poor choice of word usage when I used only a simple sentence stating, 'the howls of barking could be heard within the Marish' as an introduction of Farmer Maggot coming back home…

I guess I got lost in my own story and forgot about the reader. I should have made it clearer…

I really appreciate your taking the time to review this little story. It makes me feel like someone is enjoying it and making me want to finish this just for you! …..(Smile)…..


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Stouthearted

Sam closed the small book he held in his hands, pondering and perplexing over what Frodo divulge in his writing. He was not sure what he was going to do with this book. He ran his fingers over the fine leather that he had polished and made to look like new. He realized just why Frodo put that book where he had found it— a memory so painful it had to be put aside. Sam could understand the heartache Frodo felt, because he too buried his own wife. But for Sam, it was different; he had spent his entire life with Rosie and raised thirteen of their children together. Sam could not even count the number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren of his, but in their presence, he could recall each name.

Guilt devoured Sam knowing how his master only had one brief moment with the one that he had loved, while Sam had a lifetime of love. Then Sam knew it was not the only pain that Frodo had suffered—he lost his mother and father in the same manner. Then the memories of the war of the ring poured through his thoughts and how the ring tortured and possessed Frodo, even to the end of losing his finger in the ring's destruction. Yes, some hurts do go very deep to where time can not mend them and they take hold. Those words caused his heart to ache. Sam wished he would have never found this book, never knew the contents of what he read, but it could not be erased, it was there and stood foremost in his mind. Sam's tears ran down his cheeks from the emotions that welted deep within him. Clutching the small book tightly within his hands and pressing it hard against his chest, Sam whispered to himself sobbing, "Why?" unable to understand the reasons for all that Frodo had to bear in his life.

…….

The front door of Bag End opened and slammed shut, there was a bustle of noises and voices in the hallway that had awaken the elderly hobbit from his slumber. Sam opened his eyes and listened to the familiar noise coming from the old cook who had begun her duties of the day.

He did not know how long he had slept, whether it was a few moments or hours, or even falling asleep for that matter. His eyes ached from the sorrow of his tears and he cast his eyes to the side of him and there lay the small book of Frodo's.

Hearing the old cook rattling her cart down the corridor where she filled the oil lamps and replaced burnt out candles with new ones, Sam knew she would soon be coming into his room to awaken him. He did not want anyone to see this small book or start the curiosity in others. He did not want to explain this book or divulge any of Frodo's secrets. Rushing, Sam flung his sheets and blankets from off himself and stiffly maneuvered over to his closet to find a hiding spot. The small drawers in his chest that housed items such as buttons, cufflinks and jewelry was not big enough for Frodo's book, and his larger drawers will filled full of knitted sweaters, woolen vest and soft undergarments.

He heard the click of his bedroom door being opened and he saw his best green weskit that he seldom ever wore with its deep pockets and he quickly placed it in there when the old cook shouted out to him.

"Mayor Gardner?" she spoke in her old, raspy, high-pitched voice coming further into the room and over to the closet door. "Yer up early, sir, is 'ere anything I can get fer ya?"

"No, Mrs. Boffin, I can manage for myself, but thankee kindly for asking," announced Sam.

"Yer son, Master Robin be in the kitchen, sir, pour'n himself a cup 'o me fine brew'd tea and asked me ta fetch ya fer to join'n him," she informed him.

Looking at his cook, Sam raised his eye brow thinking that his son should be out shirriffing rather than sipping his tea.

"Tell him I'll be along just as soon as I'm properly dressed," and waved his hand towards her for some private time.

She shuffled her feet from her master's room and closed the door behind her. Sam could hear the old cook's cart being pushed further down the corridor and away from his door.

Sam only had a few moments to get himself dressed so not to delay his son any longer than necessary so he would resume his duties as shirriff.

Sam leaned his weight upon his heavy wooden cane and rushed his weak old knees down the long corridor of Bag End.

There leaning up against the stone countertop and sipping his tea, was his youngest son, Robin. He wore his green hat with the long feather and his matching weskit that gave him the authority and respect of others.

"The satisfaction and duties of your position is not served well within the kitchen of Bag End," Sam chided his son.

Robin put down his teacup and turned with a smile towards his scowling father. "The good folk of Hobbiton sit gathered at their tables enjoying the pleasures of their first breakfast, should not their shirriff do likewise?" he paused a moment and took yet another sip of his tea, and then added, "An empty stomach does not provide good satisfaction, nor serves the Shire folk in which their trust is upon me."

Leaning upon his cane, Sam shuffled his feet pass his son and headed towards the table and sat down. "Get your Da a cup of tea and join me. Mrs. Boffin will prepare our first breakfast."

Sam sat quiet at his table with his cup of tea and listened to his son's polite conversation. His mind kept wandering back to the little book and the words of his master. Sam would occasional nod as if he heard every word in which his son spoke and Robin noticed his lack of attention and asked him, "Is everything well with you, Da?"

"As well as can be for the age of my old bones and aching joints," Sam commented.

"You seem lost in thought more so then usual. Is there goings on in Hobbiton that I should concern myself with?" asked Robin knowing his father and his deep concerns with the welfare of those who lived within the Shire.

"None that I can think of," commented Sam, but in his thoughts that were ever pressing upon his mind were of Frodo and he knew his time had come in that moment to join his master in the Grey Havens. Sam turned to his son with a new passion burning within him.

"A party!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Yes, that's it! Bag End needs a party and we'll invite everyone." Sam stood and clutched his cane leaning his weight upon it.

"Wait a minute, Da!" shouted Robin to regain Sam's fleeting attention. "Bag End is still not finished with its repairs and you need your rest. You can not plan a party of which you speak."

"Yes, I can, Robin," insisted Sam with excitement and then added, "You're going to help me!"

Robin's face wrinkled in confusion at the sudden change in his father. "What about my shirriffing job, I thought you wanted me to apply myself more to my work."

"You have others helping you, let them do more so of the job," said Sam dismissing Robin of his responsibilities. "I need you now!"

Robin turned up the corners of his lips and wondered if Sam's age had taken away his common sense and feebleness of his mind. Taking a hold of his father's shoulder, Robin turned his father around so to face him, "You're the one who appointed me shirriff of Hobbiton and that my responsibilities lye first with the Shire folk."

Sam looked directly into his eyes and heard his words, "You're right, go now and get all your brothers and sisters, tell them to bring their wives and their husbands. Tell them to gather all their children and bring themselves here to me today. Samwise Gamgee Gardner is going to say his farewells under the party tree that I had planted to everyone that I have met and known. There is going to be a party, Robin!"

Robin was hit with the full force of Sam's words and it made his mind spin in mystification and perplexity. What his father ordered of him would be equal to summing an army of great numbers because Sam was known and loved by every hobbit in the Shire. He had touched every heart from his kindness and devotion from the long life that he had lived and had stretched far further than the boarders of the Shire.

A knot twisted in Robin's throat and tears swelled in his eyes of respect, pride and love he had for him. The pain throbbing in his chest knowing these were the final days of his father and that separation ensued him.

Sam could see the thick tears swelling in his son's eyes and he reached his arms around him to hug him. Sam's voice eased to comforting tones and filled with fatherly compassion. "It's all right, Robin, my time has now come as it should be. Each mother and father must hand down their torch to their children and their children must step forward to take on their own lives with their own destinies at hand. The parting is painful, but is how life proceeds as each one born must someday face."

Sam tightened his embrace upon his son when he felt his shoulder quiver in his sorrow.

Patting him firmly on his son's back, Sam pulled away from him. With encouragement, Sam asked him, "Go now and do what I have asked of you. It will take every hand that can be offered to help plan this party."

Directly after first breakfast, Robin was out the door and heading to the homes of his brothers and sisters.

In the week that followed, the family of Samwise Gamgee Gardner had finished putting together the biggest party that Hobbiton would ever see. There were grand colorful flags and bright banners sewn and large tents to house the many services that this party would offer. There were tents for the bakers who make the cakes, pies and breads and tents for the cooks who would prepare huge pots of favored dishes of sweet meats, stews and all kinds of side dishes of mushroom, tomatoes and greens. Beside the tents were tables after tables that lined the party field with wooden benches and single wooden stools. Kegs of ale were rolled and stacked high and mugs and glassware were gathered from numerous families on trays piled one on top of the other. There were special tents for games and prizes for the children both young and old alike. Huge baskets and bins stored the gifts that Samwise had chosen all with their own labels for the many guests and relatives invited or not. Invitations were bundled and tied and stuffed into large bags to be delivered to the messenger of each farthing including the new additions of the Shire—The Westmarch and Buckland.

The messengers bore heavy bags upon their ponies as each one rode out in different directions.

While the word passed from township to townships, families opened their homes to the many guests that would soon arrive from distant farthings. Carriages and wagons began to fill the roads as neighbors joined neighbors upon their trek to Hobbiton.

Soon every home, barn, stable, spare bedroom, dinning room table and kitchen floor had a guests sleeping upon them. Families gathered around campfires in front of their tents in the empty fields and they waited in anticipation of this party.

When the day of the party arrived, Sam put on his best green weskit and then headed down to the party field to greet all the guests that were just arriving.

Sam shyly climbed upon the platform and nervously strummed his fingers together. Looking outward to the largest group of hobbits ever assembled, Sam stood in front of them so they could hear his final farewell to the Shire.

His eyes roamed the crowd going from recognizable face to another, each one he knew and at one time or another he had offered his help to them. Each face brought a memory to his mind of kind words spoken or a pleasant moment spent and it brought a smile to his humble lips.

There stood Boffins' mixed with the Tooks', Bucklanders' mixed with Baggins' and Broadbelts'. There were Hornblowers' and Proudfeets' with Fairbarins' and Goodbodys'. There were Gamgee's from his brother's side of his family and Cottons' and Northern Tooks' from his sister's side of the family. Sam saw all of his thirteen adult children in the mix of all of his grandchildren and even some of his great-grandchildren. Each eye and each smiling face was looking up towards him, silently waiting for him to speak.

Sam shuffled his feet and cleared his throat more times than he needed to and tried to find a comfortable stance upon the platform in which he stood. Not knowing what to say, but knowing he had to say something he cleared his throat yet again, Sam began to speak with them.

"Well, I'm not much for the fancier words and all, nor being too long winded, as it were. But I've come to tell you my farewells and that I'll be leaving very soon. I know my Gaffer would be telling me not to venture any further then the goods of our gardens, but my time here is over and your times are just beginning," Sam looked directly into the eyes of his sons and daughters and those of his grandchildren, while he spoke, and then after a short pause and a few more shuffles of his feet he continued.

"All that I can say if truth be known is that there is not one of you that my heart will ever forget nor your faces ever become faded. I leave the Shire in your care and my fondness of farewells to each of you…."

There was a great silence that followed Sam's few words and the moment seemed lost in time. Then an old hobbit stood from his seat and began to clap his hands and then another elderly hobbit stood a few tables down from him and he joined his friend. Sam immediately recognized Peregrin Took and Merriadoc Brandybuck. When they stood before their great number of their clan, so did every single Took and Brandybuck alike and they too began to clap their hands. Adding to this great number of clan hobbits, stood the entire Shire of folks from every farthing and their clamor was deafening to the ears when they stood in front of Sam to honor him. A great roar of shouts and cheers exploded all shouting out his name, "To Samwise, the Stouthearted!"

Sam could feel his tears of pride fall down the wrinkles of his cheeks being so honored while he stood in the throng of this great audience.

Sam silently spoke a poem while he stood facing this crowd that cheered him.

'This day I stand upon my journey's end

My feet upon the land of my friends,

No shadow will I ever cast

But my memories will forever last.

I bid to you my fond farewell,

And in the Grey Havens I shall dwell.'

Sam turned from the crowd that all praised his name, and went back into Bag End with his children that followed him.

His wagon was loaded and stood ready for him. Sam had packed each wooden box and the things that he would leave to Elanor including the red book that Frodo had given him. Sam's closest friends, Peregrin Took and his son Faramir, with Merriadoc and his son, sat beside Sam's son, Frodo and Frodo Gardner's son sat beside Sam, when the wagon pulled away from Bag End and headed towards the Westmarch.

The small group only stayed one night with Fastred and Elanor, and in the early morning hours, Samwise Gamgee Gardner bid his family a tearful farewell and went onto the Grey Havens escorted only by Peregrin and Merriadoc.

The two hobbits watched Sam climb the plank to the ship that would take him to his master, and Sam stood there for a moment and waved his final good-byes to them and then turned and walked up the plank and then Samwise the Stouthearted was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A Journey's End

An impenetrable mist hung in a great cloud and appeared to be a thick sodden canopy just off the bow of the ship and it sliced it as it entered. Swallowing the ship whole, the mist engulfed it and hung upon its deck in an endless gloom. The dampness penetrated through, and chilled Sam down to his aged old bones and he found himself shivering. Clutching his cloak that covered his green weskit, he brought it tighter around his shoulders and tucking his arms into it, and slowly made his way across the wet deck.

Through the mist, Sam could just make out two, tall, dark-forms standing huddled together at the starboard side. Their dampened cloaks clung upon them and they appeared more buriers of the dead, than the elves he knew he traveled with. They whispered quietly among themselves and gave no notice of Sam when he walked pass them, heading to the bow the ship. Being in this thick gloom to where one could not see beyond a foot in front of you, set Sam's heart to fear. There was no reason to be frightened, he kept telling himself. Soon his journey's end would be at hand and he would be with his master. The minutes of time seemed unmoving while he stood with his hands upon the railing. Sam craned his neck and tried to peer through the mist unsuccessfully.

Slowly the mist began to lessen and Sam could see beams of light breaking slowly through the fog.

The beams of light became stronger piercing holes through the dense mist and the whiteness of them made Sam raise his arm to protect his eyes. Thousands of white bright rays exploded through the fog as lightening through darkness on a stormy night. The Ship took on a glow that seemed to gather energy from it. The beams of light began to sparkle and glisten while Sam fought to block out the brightness with his hands shielding his eyes against them. His eyes burnt and watered trying to peer through the spaces between his fingers. Then in one motion the rays fused together as one bright light and it poured upon them when the ship broke free of the fog. Sam felt something inwardly changing him as if no pain, heartbreak or death could enter within this magnitude of light that enveloped him. Gone was the pain of his aching joints and sore knees and Sam felt renewed of spirit and strength.

Sam rubbed and wiped his eyes desperately trying to focus his sight to get his first glimpses of the Grey Havens and his master waiting for him.

Sam could hear the elves that came up from behind him while they called out cheering, "Upon the shores, they wait for us. I see them there."

Sam forced his eyes open widely and peered out straining to see the distance shores ahead of them. But the whiteness that surrounded him blurred his vision and he could only make out the line of the shore.

"Do you see a hobbit upon those shores?" begged Sam to the elves that stood behind him.

"Yes, there is more than just one," commented the elf that stood directly behind Sam.

Sam's heart leaped knowing Mr. Bilbo was with Frodo waiting for him and he almost willed himself from the ship to the shore to see them.

Sam kept his eyes fixed upon the shore while time moved ever so slowly inching its way there.

While his frustration and anticipation grew within him just standing and waiting for the ship to get close enough so he could see them, Sam listened to the elves as they described to him of what they could see.

When Sam thought that he could not wait a minute longer, Frodo came into his view and Sam shouted and waved his arms about, "Mr. Frodo, Frodo," he called out all the louder, "Frodo!"

He could see his master clearly with his long grey cloak and thick, dark-curls blowing in the wind. His youthful face smiling and carefully preserved just as Sam had remembered him. Frodo had not aged a day, nor would he in the undying lands of the Grey Havens.

When the ship turned into port, so did Sam, he followed the railing around to starboard side so he would not lose sight of his master standing there waiting for him. Behind Frodo stood Gandalf, Lord Elrond and his wife, Celebrain with their two sons, Elladan and Elrohir and from their side stood a smaller figure cloaked in grey. Sam smiled knowing this was Mr. Bilbo Baggins.

Sam rushed from the ship when the plank was lowered and climbing down from it and into Frodo's waiting embrace.

"Sam," Frodo's welcoming voice rang into his ears and the strength of his arms around him.

Frodo pulled him away from him so he could look directly into his eyes and Frodo could see in Sam a life time of joy that reflected in his eyes and the lines of age upon his dear face. "Sam," Frodo's eyes filled with joyful tears, "Time has been so kind to you."

"Now don't go making fun of me, just yet, Mr. Frodo," Sam murmured and shuffled his feet upon the ground feeling a little embarrassed of his elderly looks. "I've aged a bit since our parting."

"It is not the age that I see in you, Sam, but a life time of happiness that is upon your face," Frodo replied softly.

Guilt spread through Sam and he lowered his eyes to the ground and wishing his could have concealed it from his master, knowing now what he did about Frodo.

Sam raised his eye slowly and shyly up to meet Frodo's gaze. He could clearly see within Frodo's eyes a release of all pain that had once taken hold of his master. Sam saw a complete sense of peace and care freeness that was never quite there before in all the

years that Sam had known him. Frodo was as he should have always been before so much tragedy had touched him. The Grey Havens and the elves had healed Frodo from a soul that had endured too much pain and Frodo was finally free of all those hurts that he had known.

From behind Frodo came a loud chuckle from the wizard draped in white robes and long white beard. "Do you have greetings for an old friend," stated Gandalf bending to one knee.

"Gandalf!" declared Sam and he rushed over to greet him and put his arms around him.

Gandalf lightly patted Sam shoulder and then pulled back to gaze into his eyes. "Even though age has changed your face, my dear hobbit, your heart is ever steadfast."

Sam looked up from over Gandalf's bent form to see the stern eyes of Lord Elrond who crossed his arms in front of himself, speaking slowly and clearly, he stated, "Not even the separation of time has changed your presences here; for you were ever so much in our minds. Welcome to the Grey Havens, Master Gamgee." Then a slow smile of greetings raised Lord Elrond's lips.

Then from behind Sam, came Frodo's voice, asking, "I have another for you to meet."

Sam stood up and walked over to Celebrain because he had never met her before and waited for Frodo to introduce them. After a long pause, Sam turned around and standing directly in front of him was a lass whose eyes were unforgettable as the sky on a cloudless day and she could see him clearly gazing into Sam's eyes. He could feel the blood rush from his face to his toes and he felt faint of heart gazing upon her. His knees suddenly buckled and he rocked in his stance.

The lass grabbed his hands to steady him, and Sam suddenly whispered, "Minderell?"

To Frodo's shock, he turned to Sam suddenly saying, "How could you have possibly known of her, Sam?"

Gaining his senses back, Sam's eyes fell to his feet yet again, feeling very ashamed of himself and with his right hand Sam pulled Frodo's small book from his pocket of his green weskit and handed it to him.

Seeing his old book, Frodo looked up towards Sam exasperated and smiled, "Is there anything that you do not know of me, Samwise Gamgee?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his feet upon the ground.

Frodo looked at the book he held in his hands and knowing the words that he kept upon their pages, raised his eyes to Minderell. He grasped her hand gently, lightly giving them a confident squeeze and kissed her cheek smiling.

Sam caught the affections shared by the two and it made him happy. Looking at the two standing together, Sam felt that both his eyes were suddenly opened and he could finally see clearly and he reveled in it, smiling. Gentle arms would forever hold his master and speak soft words of love to him and from him. Sam blessed the valor for giving Frodo the greatest gift more precious than life itself, Frodo would have a life of love that would span for all time—What was taken from him and done unto him was healed and put back.

For what ever reason that Sam could think of, he did not understand how this could be. She had died—or did she? Was it Tom Bombadil's magic mushrooms that farmer Maggot gave to his daughter that healed her blindness and put her into such a deep sleep that it only appeared to be death. Then Sam thought of the time when Frodo and he spent the night in the woods and saw the elves leaving for the harbor for the Grey Havens and perhaps Minderell was among them. There are things in the world that are meant to be and things that happen for a reason. They are not clear to everyone that bears witness to them, but none the less is sound when your eyes are both open and then you can see it clearly. There are possibilities of this world that close-eyed people could never understand nor ever care to see, but it is there as long as both your eyes can see it.

Lord Elrond and his wife Celebrian returned to the hobbits after greeting the elves that had come ashore, and he requested that they follow him into his home.

There sitting propped up against many pillows was Bilbo Baggins with a teacup in one hand and a whistling teakettle upon a large silver tray on the table next to him. Bilbo raised his cup to Sam. "Care for a cup of tea, Samwise?" asked Bilbo and gestured him to sit next to him.

Sam sat down upon the chair and took the cup of tea and smiled his greeting toward Mr. Baggins. "Thankee kindly," he paused and took a sip, then added, "I guess that I am home."

Bilbo looked at Sam's aged old face and Bilbo chuckled knowing he was still 30 years older than Sam.

The end…..

A/N:

Thank you all for reading this very short story. I know this is an AU moment for my ending, but I wanted Frodo to live happily ever after. It had always bothered me that after everything that Frodo went through, that there was not something more for him in the Grey Havens. Well, I guess my wild imagination took over and created it….YIKES!

_There are some things that time can not mend. There are some hurts that go too deep that has taken hold.'_ These words that Frodo spoke have always made me feel so sad for him. So taking that, I made this story.

Until next time…..


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